


midnight

by surrealmeme



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Hair, Hair Washing, Injury, M/M, Post-Battle, Post-Quest, Three Days in the Infirmary (Percy Jackson), anyway, infirmary, is a real tag i'm dead, okay so i was typing up infirmary and discovered that, soft, soft?, subtle but deeply rooted and always there love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 19:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: No one wants to go to bed with dirty hair.





	midnight

The very image of weariness, Nico di Angelo dragged himself into the grounds of Camp Half-Blood. The quest he had gone on was supposed to have been minor, but circumstances changed and it had morphed into a four day long chase by a hoard of monsters. He had prevailed in the end, of course, but not without cost to himself. Nico’s arm was broken - thank the gods it wasn’t his sword arm - and he had torn a muscle in his leg, so he had been ingesting probably dangerous levels of ambrosia to keep him running. In the end, Nico had to shadow travel to camp.

Too fatigued to walk all the way across the camp grounds to the infirmary, Nico headed to the Hades cabin instead. As nice as seeing Will would be, Nico didn’t have any desire to be lectured by the medic when he was this drained.

 _Gross_ , Nico thought as he pulled back the comforter. He had stripped off the dirtiest of his clothes and wiped his face with wet wipes, but he simply was unable to wash the mud, blood, and leaves out of his hair. _I’ll have to throw the pillowcase out._

Resigned to this fact, Nico laid down and closed his eyes, completely unaware that Will had been made aware of his presence and was presently heading to his cabin. Nico fell asleep quickly out of pure fatigue and was later awakened by soft lips pressed to his temple and a soft voice speaking in his ear.

“Nico, I need you to wake up, just for a little moment,” Will urged. “Less than ten minutes, I promise. I won’t even rant about you pushing yourself too far.”

At this, Nico blearily opened his eyes.

“You promise not to lecture me now?” he asked, but Will didn’t understand.

“What?” he asked. “Nico, that was Italian. You must be really tired.”

Nico realized this fact and re-asked his question, in English, and it brought a wry smile to Will’s face.

“Yes, I promise to lecture you in the morning, after you’ve slept,” he said. “Now come on, your hair is disgusting and needs to be washed.”

“Will, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t,” Nico deadpanned. “Broken arm, remember?”

“And a torn muscle that you decided to run on for days, _I know_ ,” Will said. “I won’t talk about it now, just come to the infirmary so I can wash your hair.”

And so they went, slowly making their way to Will’s workplace.

“Lie down in that chair,” Will said, pointing to the chair with a sink attached, the kind you would normally see in hair salons. Nico concluded the infirmary had it for people with injuries that prevented them from washing their hair themselves. Nico stiffened at first when the cold water hit his scalp.

“Relax,” Will said. “It’ll get warm soon.”

 _And I’ll make you feel_ real _good_ , he thought to himself, instead of saying it out loud. Nico was too tired to give a proper reaction anyway.

As the water warmed and flowed into Nico’s hair, the tenseness in his shoulders began to release, his body visibly slumping. Will worked his fingers through Nico’s hair, softening all the stuff caked in there. The water turned brownish-red, and Will couldn’t help but worry - but he didn’t voice it. It wouldn’t do to confront Nico about all his injures now. That conversation was for when both Nico and Will were rested and ready, so that they wouldn’t say anything to be later regretted.

Soon, the water flowing down from Nico’s scalp was only slightly tinged brown, so Will deemed it time to properly wash it. He pumped a generous amount of shampoo into his palm, trying not to yawn. Will didn’t know if Nico was asleep or not, but he did know that if Nico caught Will yawning, he would begin to feel guilty about Will taking care of him when Will was tired himself.

Will spread the shampoo evenly through Nico’s hair and worked it through the strands, creating a thick, foamy lather that carried a faint scent of lavender and vanilla. Generic, one could say, but no one could deny that they aroma was genuinely soothing. As Will gently massaged Nico’s scalp, the weary boy slightly parted his lips and let out a soft sigh of relaxation and contentment. The rest of the tension in Nico’s body flowed out of him, and he let his head fall back into Will’s hands. Will smiled at the sight of Nico genuinely letting go of his stress, looking down on his peaceful face with kind eyes full of love and caring.

Once the shampoo had been rinsed out of Nico’s hair and the long strands gently untangled by Will’s fingers, there wasn’t a real need or reason for using conditioner. Well, there was a reason: Will had found himself greatly enjoying the feeling of running his hands through Nico’s freshly clean hair and would rather not stop. So conditioner it was. It would make Nico’s hair look nice, anyway.

So Will rubbed the slick conditioner into the bottom half of Nico’s dark, dark brown, practically black hair, then idly played with the ends while he let it sit for a few minutes.

 _A good call_ , Will thought when he washed the conditioner from Nico’s hair. _Always though people were exaggerating when they said hair could feel silky, but I guess not._

Will grabbed a towel, draped it over Nico’s shoulders, and gently pushed him up.

“Sit up,” he softly said.

Nico did as told so that will could dry his hair. He felt much cleaner, calmer, and fresher, and told himself again how lucky he was to have Will. Going to bed with all that filth caked in his hair sounded terrible now.

“Thank you,” Nico softly said, turning his head to look at Will. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, so you don’t need to thank me,” Will said. “But, you’re welcome.

A slight pause, then,

“I love you.”

Nico didn’t look at Will when he said it, but both he and Will knew the other was smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the song "Midnight" by offonoff for two reasons:  
> 1) it was what I was listening to on repeat while writing this  
> 2) it's a good fucking song that can only be described as sounding "aesthetic"


End file.
